


Loves me, loves me not

by JamieDragon



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aromantic, Aromantic Jaskier | Dandelion, Comfort, Declarations Of Love, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Sex, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Sad Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sad Jaskier | Dandelion, Self-Indulgent, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28003209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieDragon/pseuds/JamieDragon
Summary: Jaskier struggles with the knowledge that Geralt loves him, while he doesn't love Geralt. At least not the way he feels he should. No matter how much he tries.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 149





	Loves me, loves me not

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pretty self-indulgent little story, which was almost too easy to write. It mirrors a lot of my own feelings of wishing for romantic love and feeling like I'm not how I should or want to be. Geralt had some good points though, so maybe I will feel better after writing this.
> 
> And of course: This is in no way how ALL aromantic people are or feel. I can only speak for myself.
> 
> I also want to point out that there is NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING AROMANTIC AND/OR ASEXUAL. I know this logically, but still struggle emotionally. I don't want anyone to think this is meant as disrespect or like I don't value aro/ace. It is simply me trying to work through my own feelings about myself, by projecting on to our favourite bard.
> 
> Whoever you are, whoever you love or don't love. You are valid. ♡

When they fall into bed together the first time, Jaskier is happy. Scratch that. He's ecstatic!

Geralt is his very best friend in the whole wide world, and also pretty much everything Jaskier finds attractive. It's amazing. He's sore for days after. And he can only hope that it will happen again. 

Lucky him, it does. And it's amazing the second time as well. And the third time. And the fourth. And fifth. Jaskier is happier than he's ever been, and there really is nothing to complain about.

But then, Geralt starts to change. 

It's small things really. The way his words to and about Jaskier are kinder. The way he looks at him. The way he sometimes touches Jaskier, not in a "I want to fuck you" kind of way, but more a "I just want to feel your presence" kind of way.

It's really rather endearing. 

And Jaskier only wishes that he would stop.

He can only pray that Geralt will never say those three little words.  ~~_ They're not real. _ ~~ _ I love you.  _ Because then Jaskier will have to answer with three little words of his own.  _ I do not. _

But of course, Geralt  _ does _ say those words. And of course, Jaskier  _ doesn't.  _ Because say what you want about him, he isn't a heartless bastard who will hurt his best friend like that. Though lying to the same best friend makes him feel utterly guilty. Lying is maybe easier now, but it is a betrayal, and will most likely come back to bite him in the end.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

Determined to change the lie into truth, Jaskier throws himself wholeheartedly into everything love related. If he just tries hard enough, he will start loving Geralt the way the witcher loves him. He reads love stories, poetry about love, sings all the love songs he can, composes new ones, and listens to anyone who wants to tell him about their own love.

But it doesn't work. Just as he has known all along, deep down, that it won't.

And Geralt keeps saying he loves him. Jaskier's only solace is that the witcher, always a man of few words, doesn't  _ often _ confess his love. But he does do it. And every time, Jaskier just feels more guilty and broken, repeating empty words back like an echo.

It is bound to end sooner or later. 

When it does, it is a warm summer night. The moon is almost full, shining down in the small meadow, and he and Geralt have for once forgone a campfire, not needing neither the warmth nor the light. Darkness has fallen around them, and they're laying side by side, fingers gently touching, as they watch the stars.

It's peaceful. It's idyllic. It's fucking romantic.

Geralt must think the same, because he turns his head to look at Jaskier, and smiles. Jaskier looks back. Looks at those golden eyes, much too soft for anyone described as a butcher. Looks at the way Geralt's hair shines like silver in the moonlight.

Jaskier is very happy with his musical abilities, but for a moment he wishes he had gone another way. That he had chosen art and became a painter, so he could capture Geralt's beauty right now. Show it to the rest of the world, and keep it safe from time and anything that would want to destroy it.

Instead, he hides the picture in his heart.

And then he destroys the beauty.

"I love you," Geralt whispers, and something breaks in Jaskier. He knows he should say the words back, like he always does. But he can't. The guilt has grown and grown, and it refuses to be ignored any longer.

So instead, he sits up, so he doesn't have to see Geralt's face when his words break him. "Please stop saying that."

"What?"

Jaskier can almost hear the confused expression on Geralt's face. The way he's frowning at Jaskier's back. "Stop saying that you love me."

"Why?"

And there it is. The thing he has tried so hard not to tell the witcher. "Because I don't love you." It's barely more than a whisper, but he knows Geralt will hear it.

There is a long silence, while Jaskier can barely breathe.

"You told me you did."

"I know. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I just…" He breaks off. How can he explain this? How can he make it better? Usually Jaskier can so easily find the words, but now… His thoughts feel like a storm in his head, and he doesn't know how or where to start. He wants to,  _ needs _ to, tell Geralt the truth. But the truth is a secret he has been hiding away from everyone, almost from himself even, and the words to describe it slips from his grasp.

Of course, his silence isn't interpreted like that.

"I see," Geralt says. Anyone else would hear coldness, but Jaskier knows him better. He can hear how hurt the witcher actually is.

"Geralt, I'm sorry. Please let me explain."

"No need. I understand." Geralt gets up from the ground and starts collecting his things. Jaskier wants to think it's just a way for Geralt to distract himself, but he's pretty sure the witcher is actually preparing to leave.

"Geralt…" Gods he sounds desperate. 

"I hope you got enough material for your song."

For a moment, Jaskier is just confused. And then he remembers the fact that the few times his witcher hasn't had to pay for sex, it's because someone found him exotic. Like a rare bird. Or an experiment. Something you only do so you can brag to others afterwards.  _ Fuck. _

"Geralt, that's not it! I'm not writing a song about your cock!"

"Could have fooled me. Oh wait, you did."

"Geralt-"

"Fuck off, Jaskier."

"Can I please just-"

"Fuck. Off."

"I  _ can't  _ love you!"

Unsurprising, Geralt looks even more hurt and angry at that. "I get it. Who could ever love a monster like me."

"No!" Jaskier has gotten to his feet, but doesn't know how close he dares to go. Though if he gets punched, he can't really say he doesn't deserve it. "I mean I can't love anyone! I… I don't know how!"

Geralt actually stops his packing then, and looks at him. His expression makes it seem like he's searching for the trap in Jaskier's words.

"I can't love you, because I don't know how to love." Jaskier gives him a sad smile, though it feels more like a grimace. "I know that the whole 'it's not you, it's me' is a terrible cliche and all but… it really  _ is _ me. You're not a monster. I just… don't know how."

"But you love people all the time."

"No." Jaskier shakes his head. "I  _ make  _ love to people all the time. I fuck people. I enjoy people's company, and I feel terribly attracted to people. But I don't love them."

"Hm," Geralt frowns.

"It's not the same thing," Jaskier explains. "The attraction is more… the aesthetic, I suppose?" He shakes his head again. "No, not exactly. Or… not just that. Someone's personality can be very attractive. It's just… not love."

"What about your songs?"

Jaskier would almost laugh, if he wasn't on the brink of crying. "I'm not stupid, Geralt. I read, and I listen. And I have a fantastic imagination. I know how it's supposed to feel, I just… don't." Hesitantly, he takes a step closer to the witcher, hoping with every fiber in his body that he won't be abandoned here. Even though he would understand if it happens. "I'm sorry, Geralt. I should have told you. I just… I have never told anyone. I know that there's something… broken in me, and I don't know how to fix it, and I didn't want anyone to know." His tears make Geralt blurry, and Jaskier binks hard a couple of times. It doesn't work. "I know I should have told you, but I was… I  _ am _ scared, and I didn't want to hurt you. I thought that if I just tried harder, it would stop being a lie. I'm s- sorry."

His words brake in a sob, and he hides his face in his hands. He knows he is selfish, that Geralt has much more reason to cry and be upset. But he feels raw and vulnerable after his confession. And scared. So fucking scared. Scared that Geralt won't believe him. Scared that Geralt  _ will _ believe him. Scared to be abandoned, and scared to still be loved after this. And on top of that is the bone deep sorrow of knowing that he can't love Geralt the way he deserves. That he isn't enough.

Jaskier almost jumps when strong arms suddenly wrap around him, and Geralt pulls him close. For a little while, all he can do is cry into the black shirt in front of him.

"I'm sorry," he finally mumbles, resting his forehead against Geralt's shoulder.

"Forgiven," Geralt hums, and Jaskier feels his heart become a little lighter.

"Thank you."

"I don't like you lying to me. But I think I can see why you thought it was a good idea."

Jaskier shakes his head. "I knew it was a stupid idea, I just didn't know what else to do. You're my best friend and I don't want to hurt you ever."

Geralt slowly strokes Jaskier's back while he thinks for a moment. "I'm your best friend?"

"Yes."

"And you… like it when we fuck?"

"Sweet Melitele, yes!"

"Are you sure? You never felt… forced in any way?"

Jaskier could say lots of things about how he loves when Geralt forces him, but the gravity of the question stops him. Instead he lifts his head to meet golden eyes, to make sure Geralt doesn't doubt his words. "Never. I want you more than anything. And the times I, for one reason or another, don't feel up for it, I swear I always tell you. You have never done anything I didn't want you to."

Geralt nods a little, and his relief is obvious. "So you like me. You like us having sex. But you don't love me."

"Well…" Jaskier makes a face. "That's when it becomes tricky."

A frown is all the question he gets.

"The thing is, I  _ do _ love you. I just don't…  _ love _ -love you."

"Love-love me?"

With a sigh, Jaskier drops his forehead against Geralt's chest. "Fuck. Why is this so complicated." Neither the dark fabric nor sturdy muscles answer him, so he directs his attention back to Geralt's face. "I love you. I love you very very much. But it's… the way I'd love a brother."

"You'd fuck your brother?"

"Okay, bad example! I love you like I… like I love travelling, or the ocean, or a mug of warm cider in front of the fireplace after a day out in the snow. I love you… the way I love music! Strongly and fiercely, but not romantically." He feels the tears threatening to fall again. "Not like I should. Not how love is in the songs and the stories. Not like other people do."

"I am pretty sure other people don't love me," Geralt says, a grin pulling at his lips.

"Oh, shut up!" Jaskier punches his arm. "You know what I mean." But the joke has stopped the threat of tears, and Jaskier is more than happy to help Geralt put out his bedroll again.

For a while, they just lay there, though now facing each other instead of the night sky. Geralt seems deep in thought, and Jaskier is too relieved to care about the silence.

"I still don't understand the difference," Geralt finally says, looking at Jaskier.

"Well, it's-"

"No," Geralt interrupts. "What is  _ really  _ the difference?"

Jaskier isn't sure what to say.

"We both love each other?," the witcher continues.

"Yes, but-"

"Neither of us want to see the other one hurt, in any way?"

"Yes."

"Both of us would do anything for the other?"

"Of course."

"We both enjoy the other's company and want to spend time together?"

"Yes."

"We both think the sex is great?"

"I already answered that."

"We both are happy to see the other after we've been apart?"

"Always!"

"So what is  _ actually  _ the difference?"

Jaskier lets the words sink in. How does Geralt make it sound so easy? So… obvious? "It's… not how it… should be?"

"And who decided how it should be?" Geralt huffs. "Fuck _should_! Witchers shouldn't have companions, especially not human ones. You shouldn't name every one of your horses the same thing. I'm pretty sure a viscount shouldn't run away and become a bard. And I'm very fucking sure a lot of people think we shouldn't do this!"

And then Geralt pulls him closer and kisses him, and Jaskier is ready to cry from entirely different reasons than before. But he doesn't want to cry right now. All he wants is to be as close to Geralt as humanly (and witcherly?) possible, and give him every bit of love that he has. Because for the first time in a very long time, that love feels like it's not just enough, but that it's good. Maybe even perfect, in its own way.

Afterwards, when all their clothes have disappeared in the dark, and they're laying relaxed and happy and somewhat sleepy in each other's arms, Geralt speaks again.

"I really like the thought of you loving me the way you do music."

Jaskier lifts his head slightly to look at his witcher. "Yeah?"

"Hm. You love music so much."

"I love  _ you  _ so much."

"And I love you."

There's a brief silence, and Jaskier almost starts drifting off to sleep.

"Still can't believe you'd fuck your own brother though."


End file.
